The Grand Ballroom
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The chandeliers of the Blackwood Manor chimed softly, vibrating with the deep notes of the cello. Elara stood at the edge of the dance floor, clutching her fan tightly. The air was thick with perfume and secrets.
From across the room, Duke Julian raised a crystal goblet in her direction, his eyes possessive behind his silver mask. He had made his intentions clear: he wanted a wife, and he had chosen her.
However, a warm hand brushed her elbow. A whisper, rough like velvet, touched her ear. "Don't go to him," Kael murmured, hidden in the shadow of a pillar. "Meet me in the gardens. We can leave this life tonight."
Two paths lay before her. Duty and power, or danger and freedom.